The Slap Heard Around the World (of Warcraft)

Unless you've been living underneath the actual tomb from which Jesus Christ emerged, you probably are well up-to-speed on the Will Smith and Chris Rock showdown at the 94th Annual Academy Awards. This post will not be adding to the millions of inscrutable takes I've been subjected to on the internet since Sunday evening. I can't remember a more excruciating 48 hours to be online.

What "the slap" did do for me, though, was unearth a very strange, very specific, very fleeting moment from the bowels of my memory. It came to me in one of those erratic neuron-firing episodes as I was passing from consciousness to sleep. Unfortunately, we have to travel back to 2006, and worse yet is that I have to give you more details than you probably want about Blizzard's 2004 MMORPG "World of Warcraft."

What's particularly unnerving about this memory coming to me is that I can count on one hand the number of things I remember from before 2009. Blame it on a few years of fairly heavy marijuana use, maybe, but however you shake it: I have a shit memory. So I was understandably surprised when this incredibly vivid experience came into my mind from when I was maybe 11 years old, sitting in my parents' basement on a paleolithic tower computer that could barely run World of Warcraft on its lowest performance settings. In that moment, I was not Spencer but Adrenis, a Night Elf Hunter playing on one of World of Warcraft's dozens of roleplaying servers (Feathermoon, for my WoW-heads).

I can spare you most of the operational minutia of the game, but basically: characters in World of Warcraft (at least the version I was playing; it's on its, like, seventh expansion pack now) occupy a world called Azeroth, split into the continents of the Eastern Kingdoms and Kalimdor. Each race (Orcs, Trolls, Humans, Gnomes, Night Elves, etc.) has its own capital city somewhere within the expansive map. One such city is Stormwind, capital of the Humans, by far the most popular gathering place for players to hang out, kill time, bid on items at the auction house, and, of course, roleplay.

On the day in question, I was, like hundreds of other players, hanging out in Stormwind with some members of my guild. Suddenly, a message appeared in the city's General Chat about an impending wedding between two fairly well-known players. The bride-to-be (I wish I could remember her name) was something of a scandalous figure on Feathermoon, as you could often find her scantily clad, dancing in front of the grand fountain in Stormwind's Trade District – a very public showcase. She was flirtatious, always saying something rather suggestive to anyone who posted up next to her. I would by lying if I said she didn't play some role in my pre-pubescent sexual awakening.

She, like me, was a Night Elf – a Rogue – and was to be married to one of the top raiders on our server, a Human Paladin (whose name also escapes me). Now, biracial marriages in WoW were not necessarily uncommon, especially between Gnomes and Dwarves, Humans and Dwarves, and Humans and Gnomes. But a Night Elf-Human marriage was a little more unorthodox, and they were broadcasting the event to the entire city. The ceremony was to take place in the Cathedral District of Stormwind, in the biggest chapel in the Eastern Kingdoms; all the bride and groom needed was someone to officiate the ceremony. Standing next to me when the announcement was made was Amoreesta, a Night Elf Druid and one of my guildmates (you know those memes about the young boy helping a middle-aged woman through her divorce on World of Warcraft? that's basically the sort of relationship we had). She was actually an ordained minister in real life, and so was prepared to make the in-game marriage as realistic as possible. She received custom vows from the bride and groom and we all made our way to the church.

The pews were completely packed, with Amoreesta standing at the altar between a Night Elf known for being sort of floozy, now adorned in an elegant white gown, and a valiant Human wearing a black tuxedo. Now, just to see if you're still with me: we're inside a video game, where two characters, played by actual human people, are deciding to commit themselves to each other in a gamified union of marriage in a church inside one of Azeroth's biggest cities. Attending the ceremony are literally hundreds of other characters, also played by actual human people, most of whom are not at all familiar with the bride or the groom in the game, and have not a fucking idea who they are in real life. And there I was, an 11-year-old boy whose skin was rapidly starting to resemble translucent printer paper, sitting in the very front row of the chapel to witness my first marriage, real or otherwise. Man, roleplaying servers rock.

Most of the ceremony went off without a hitch: they each read their vows, Amoreesta effectively fulfilled her duties as the wedding's minister. But then, as in any classically officiated wedding, came the call for objections.

A shout came from a character near the back of the pews, saying something along the lines of "whatever happened to us? to all the great times we've had?" (I'm paraphrasing, but it was deadass something like that). A Dwarf Rogue then made his way down the aisle, pews still filled to the brim, toward the altar. He didn't bother dressing for the occasion, as he was wearing some pretty impressive raid armor. The bride turned away from her almost-husband and toward the stout man approaching her. She stepped down to meet him and knelt so that they were the same height. I swear I'm not even embellishing that much here; this shit was insanely cinematic.

The Dwarf and Night Elf had a brief reminiscent conversation about some love affair from the recent or distant past – I can't remember the details. But then the bride returned to the altar, turned to face her other lover, and slapped him in the face.

Ok, so the gestural animations in WoW are pretty limited, especially back then, but your character can perform a number of actions using "/" (for example, /dance causes your character to break out the moves; /sleep causes your character to lie down in a prone-like position and close their eyes). So yeah, she /slapped the shit out of him.

Somehow that isn't even the best part. Then, the objecting Dwarf and Night Elf sprinted (literally sprinted, as Rogues have an ability that increases movement speed by 60%) out of the church and into the night. And we all just sort of watched them go. Then we left.

I'm pretty sure I saw the naked Rogue a few days later in her signature spot next to the fountain – not a Dwarf in sight. And that's my story. This is certainly one of the dumbest things I've ever written, but I had to share. It's been eating away at me.

P.S. I never saw King Richard, but Hitch is Will Smith's best movie.